


When Light disappears the Darkness will Prevail

by morgana_fire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other additional tags to be added when needed, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Some Fluff, cross dressing, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana_fire/pseuds/morgana_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something wants Bilbo Baggins dead.  The only way to do so is to kill him while he is a child and defenseless.  But the darkness has underestimated the light and Bilbo still lives.  Now his future has been changed and his life altered and yet the darkness will not rest until Bilbo Baggins can no longer take breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Do not own blah blah blah. 
> 
> New story. Alternate History/story line ect. Yes I have greatly messed with the time line ^_^ and I'm sure I will do more than that in the future :)
> 
> And no beta, please be kind. Constructive criticism always welcome. I am actually trying to write more and post more often as a challenge a friend gave me. So far I have four chapters written for this... at this point not sure how long it will be.

 

 

It had a purpose.

 

Its purpose gave it life.

 

Until It satisfied this purpose It would not rest, could not be complete, could not have vengeance.

 

It moved upon the ground, silently, quickly.  None could stand in its way.  If any did, he consumed them for fuel, energy, spitting out their bones and continuing on.  Great distances It moved, getting ever near to his purpose. 

 

So sweet.  So tender.  A call unlike any other.

 

It was the ultimate meal, its purpose, its life.

 

The brightness of the day hurt, so It hid and waited, moving with the dark.

 

There, among the green hills was its purpose.  It quivered with excitement and watched, listened and waited.  Soon, it would have life, soon the dark satisfaction of purpose will be had.

 

***

 

Belladonna smiled down at her little boy and ruffled his dark curly hair.  How was she so blessed with this child?  He sat in her lap as she read him his favorite bedtime story.

 

"And the cows looked at him with fiery eyes, so he knew that they must be the King of Elfland's cows, and that he was still in the Land of Faery.  Then he said to the cow herd: Canst tell me where lies the Dark Tower of the Elfland King?"

 

"Mother, are there really Elves?" Her son interrupted.

 

"Yes Bilbo.  You might see one in the forest if you are lucky.  Elves are very light on their feet and you will not see them unless they want to be seen."

 

"Ohh."  He replied with a huge yawn.  "I want to find the elves."

 

"Tomorrow young one.  Now, do you want me to read a bit more?"  He nodded and she gave a soft smile that he couldn't see and continued.

 

"And the cow herd answered, 'Nay, that is beyond my ken; but go a little farther and thou wilt come to a hen-wife who, mayhap, can tell thee.'"

 

Soft quiet snuffs met Belladonna's ears and she gently closed the book, set it down and lifted Bilbo into her arms as she carried him towards his bedroom.  As she laid him down he curled up on his side and snuggled into his fluffy pillow as she tucked the blankets around him.   She stood there in the soft candle light, her heart catching at the sight at him.  Running a hand gently over him, Belladonna bent down and placed a kiss to his curly head.

 

"Sleep well my son." She whispered.

 

The door shut quietly behind her and she spotted Bungo at the hearth.  His shoulders were hunched over as he stared into the fire. 

 

"Is something a matter?"  She asked, going over to him.

 

"It's nothing.  Just an uneasy feeling tonight."  His arm went around her and pulled her against him.  "Bilbo asleep then?"

 

"Yes, and he wants to go look for the Elves in the morning."

 

Bungo just snorted and shook his head.  "That may be fine and dandy for you Took's, but he is a Baggins, and we Baggins are very respectable."

 

She giggled and raised up and placed a quick kiss to his lips.  "Oh, yes.  I know all about your respectable nature Bungo Baggins.  Should I repeat those specific words you said to me to woe my heart?"

 

His face turned into a nice shade of pink, and blinked a few times, clearing his throat.  "Now, why would my sweet wife say such cruel things to her husband?"

 

"Oh hoshposh, there's nothing to be embarrassed about.  It's just you," She gave him a small kiss.  "And me." Another kiss.  "And I would love to hear those words again."

 

"Bella." He groaned, pulling her in for a deeper kiss.  Even after several years, her stomach still fluttered when she was with Bungo.

 

A loud crash startled them apart as they looked towards the kitchen. 

 

"What in the world...?" Belladonna asked as she started towards the noise.  Bungo pulled her back, a frown on his face.  "Bungo?"

 

"Shhhh."  His hand tightened slightly on her wrist.  A coldness crept into the room and she shivered.  "Who's there?"  Bungo called out.  No one answered but there was a slithering sound along with sounds of things being thrown off the shelves.    It was as if the darkness itself was moving, blocking out any kind of light, trying to suck the existing light into it.  And it was slowly heading towards them.

 

A darker shape moved forward from the blackness, a snake-like appendage twisted its way towards them.  Another one crept out along the side of it, slithering up along the wall.  The wood creaked and splintered where it touched, paintings fell and crashed to the floor, the wood itself seemed to age and blacken, cracking and splintering where it was touched along with the floor boards as it snake-like things slithered forward.  Fog, black and think slowly moved with it, Bella could she her breath forming into white puffs of air as the room grew colder. 

 

"Bungo?" She whispered as they took a step backwards.  She glanced down the hallway towards Bilbo's room.  Bungo shoved her behind them and they moved another step back.  A soft, squishy, slithering sound could be heard and whispered words that made her shudder even though she could not discern the words. 

 

More of the thing pulled itself into the room and if there was a name for the creature, none came to mind of the horror.

_"Bilbo Baggins'ssss."_ It hissed.

 

Bella looked back towards Bilbo's room as a cold chill washed over her.  She started to shiver and not just from the room, but from fear.

 

"Bella."  Bungo.  "Go get Bilbo and head over to the Greenhand's." His voice was soft and low.  She nodded and ran past him towards her son's room. 

 

But that thing was quicker as one of its tentacles lashed out and wrapped around her.  Cold, hot pain washed through her and she screamed before her breath seemed to get sucked from her lungs.  Spots danced before her eyes and then she was free, dragging in deep lung full's of air.  Bungo was there, helping her up and running down towards Bilbo's room.

 

She blinked and saw the fire stoker in Bungo's hands, his grip on it was so tight his knuckles had turned white.   A piercing scream came behind them, spurring her to hurry even faster.  Throwing the door open, Belladonna rushed to her son, scooped him out of bed and ran back out the door where Bungo held the fire poker in front of him as if it were a sword.

 

"Hurry, run.  Don't look back he yelled." As that thing slid smoothly across the floor a lot quicker than it had previously had before.  Bella ran, her son clutched to her chest, his own freighted mews spurring her on.

 

"Momma?"

_"Mine!"_ That voice screamed and Belladonna tightened her hold.

 

She had just reached the front door and had taken a few steps out when another piercing scream rent through the air.  This one made her stop short and spin around. 

 

"Bungo!" She screamed as she took a step back towards her home.  Her beloved, took a wobbled step out the door before he fell to his knees.  He glanced up at her, fear and pain in his eyes.  Those eyes that showed nothing but love and kindness.  A tight pain constricted her heart and she took a step towards him.

 

"Protect our son." He whispered.  Bella barely heard him and then a black tentacle wrapped around his neck and dragged him backwards. 

 

"NO!" She screamed.  Stifling a sob she tightened her grip turned quickly and ran towards their neighbors.  Bilbo was shivering in her arms.  

 

It didn't take long, but it still felt like forever as she reached the Greenhand's.  There was a soft light coming from within, informing her that someone was still awake.  She pounded on the door and didn't stop until it opened.

 

"Good gracious." Mirium Greenhand cried out.  "Belladonna, what happened?"  She immediately wrapped an arm around her and pulled her inside.  "You're shiverin', where's Bungo?"

 

"Something," Belladonna took a deep breath.  "Something attached us."  She reached a hand out an took a firm hold on Mirium, begging with her eyes to believe her.  "It was dark and, and, and wrong."  She couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her.  "It has him, Bungo.  I don't...I don't think."  A soft sob escaped her as Mirium guided her over towards an arm chair and sat her down. 

 

"There now dear, you're safe here."

 

Small arms had wrapped around her neck, a face buried into her neck.  She rubbed her nose in the soft curls there letting them calm her somewhat.

 

"I'll gather Arnold and the boys and we will go check it out."

 

"I will get some tea started."  Mirium said, and soon Belladonna had Bilbo sitting on her lap a cut of tea in her hands.  Truth be told, she couldn't swallow even the tiniest amount, but the warmth and smell help bolster her up a bit. 

 

The crash had her leaping to her feet, clutching Bilbo against her.  He whimpered against her. 

 

"It's coming momma.  I can feel it."

 

"No."  She shook her head.  "No, I will not let it get you."

 

"Bella dear?" Mirium said, a concerned look on her face as she stood. 

 

"I have to leave.  I need to leave now." Bella told her.

 

"Don't be silly,  Holman will see what the trouble is.  You're safe here dear."

 

A chill swept over Belladonna her breath was picking up in pace again. 

_"Bilbo.  So sweet, juicy.  Mine, he is mine."_

 

Mirium frowned and she turned towards the door and Bella's eyes widened.  Whatever this fowl thing was, it wanted her son. 

 

"What is the sound?" Mirium Greenhand asked as she headed towards the window.

 

"No, don't!" Bella yelled at her.  Mirium paused and looked back at her and Belladonna could see some fear starting to show in  her eyes.  Her hand came up to her mouth as she looked back out the darkened window.  The whole smial creaked and groaned and Bella took a step back as her eyes scanned the rooms.   Bilbo whimpered in her arms and she knew she had to leave, had to get him to safety. 

 

Belladonna fled, down the hallway and towards the backdoor, her son clutched tight in her hands.  Even she could fell its darkness behind her and she dared not look back, not even when she heard Miruim scream.  It wanted her son, for whatever foul reason, it wanted Bilbo and she would not, could not let it get him. 

 

The night closed in around her as she ran, pausing at the edge of town.  The stars shone brilliantly, lighting her path.  She could make out the other smial's, dark and quiet, asleep for the night.  They were  not safe, nowhere was safe for them. 

_Bungo_ she thought and stifled a sob. 

_"Give me what is mine.  Give me what I was promised."_

 

No, no, no, by the Valar no.  Why was it after her son?  What did it want with Bilbo?  Bella continued forward, moving with a purpose.  The elves.  The elves could help her, they would protect her son.  A plan had formed, she would get to Bree, obtain a pony and get to the elves.  Rivendell, it was her only hope. 

 

When the faint lights of Bree came into few , Belladonna could have wept.  Bilbo had long ago fell asleep in her arms.  She had travelled all night, too afraid to stop, even though no dark sound had reached her.   The Brandywine was up ahead, and a faint light in the East showed that the morning was coming.   Exhaustion was threatening her to stop and rest, but fear kept her going. 

 

She headed towards the bridge when _it_ pulled itself from the water before her.   A scream ripped from her throat at the hideous creature.  It was huge, with no defining shape.  Long tentacles sprouted from its body, used as arms and legs as it slithered/moved towards her.  Ink black, it seemed to pull shadow and light into it, making the area around it darker than it should have been.  Even its eyes, or what looked to be its eyes, where black, but shinier then its body, and then its mouth opened, wide and deep, teeth yellow-black and razor sharp, its tongue blood red reaching towards her.

 

Belladonna ran along the river's edge, not daring to swim the waters, more than positive that thing would get them before she reached the other side; if she didn't drown first.   There was a loud cracking sound and splashing as the bridge was torn free and the creature screamed.  It sent cold fear into her heart, making her stumble and fall to the ground.  Glancing back she could see it, moving faster then she thought it could.  It was taking shape, the tentacles shaping into what looked like legs, giving it a more sturdy purchase on the ground, a longer snout extended from its mouth, the teeth lining all along the insides.  It was terrifying to look at.

_"Mine, my purpose, my life, give it to me, mine."_ It kept saying and it was all Belladonna could do to keep from screaming her fear and frustration.

 

Stumbling to her feet, Bella moved forward, tears falling from her eyes.  What was she to do?  Hope was failing her.  The water's edge flowed over her feet, cold and swift.  It soon soaked into the bottom of her dress.

 

A soft movement got her attention to her right; it was a small boat, big enought to hold a Hobbit for fishing.  Bella reached for it and gently set Bilbo inside, tucking the blanket she still had around him a little tighter.

 

"I need you to  be very brave and very quiet now, okay?" She whispered.

 

"I'm scared." His brown eyes were wide his lower lip quivering.

 

She gently ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to depart a kiss on his head.  "I know my love, I know.  Remember I love you so very much."  Bella told him as she pushed the small boat out into the current.  "Now stay quiet and keep down."  She didn't dare linger, watching long enough to see the current catch it and take it down the river.  Her heart seemed to stop briefly and her hand clutched at her breast.  She prayed to the Valar, to  Yavanna and Aulë  and to Eru and to anyone who would hear her to watch over and protect her son, her little Bilbo.

 

Bending down, she quickly gather up a bundle of the weeds the grew there and pulled them to her breast.  That thing was close now, so close she could smell the fowl decay of it.

 

"You cannot have him." Her words were full of loathing and anger and bravery she did not feel.  "He is _my_ son."

 

The creature made a growling noise as it came closer.  Bella turned and ran in the opposite direction of boat.  A quick look over her shoulder showed her that it had worked.  The thing was after her, and it was moving fast.

 

Her foot caught and she tumbled down and before she could get back up a slimy, smooth, cold cord-like arm slid around her neck and arms, lifting her easily into the air.   She tried to scream, but nothing could get past as her throat was being squeezed tightly. 

 

The creature screamed, a high piercing sound that made terror and dread course through her. 

_"Where is he?  Where is my purpose?"_  

 

A cold pain seared through her and she struggled, tears streaking down her checks.  Spots danced in her vision even as the wood started to lighten up from the breaking dawn.   Her eyes flicked in the direction of the river but could not make it out any longer.   Darkness soon claimed her and she knew no more.

 


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of twists and plots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. Anything too horrible...I'm sorry

**Chapter two**

* * *

 

_Clang, clang, clang-clang_

 

The hammer sound echoed around him as he worked.   It was soothing as he lost himself in his craft.   He turned the metal over and began to pound into it again, letting the metal take its shape.  As the red heat quickly faded, Thorin thrust it back into the fire to get it hot again.  He wiped the sweat from his brow, a few strands of his dark hair had come loose from the tie at the back of his neck, keeping the bulk out of his way. 

 

Pulling the sword back out, he began the hammering again. 

 

Clang-clang, clang.

 

Time passed and he was unaware, absorb as he was.  It finally reached the shape he was looking for and thrust it into the water so that it would harden.  A nudge in his side had him scowling at Dwalin.  The bald Dwarf nodded towards a stall across the street.

 

"Your admire's been there all morning."  He chuckled.

 

Thorin groaned and glanced across the way.  Sure enough, the young girl was there her eyes always fixated on him while he worked.   It had been that way the whole time they had been in this city, for the life of him Thorin could not recall its name.  He and Dwalin had been traveling through the North Downs where there was always need of iron and swords as the area seemed to be full of Orc's, Goblin's and other foul things.

 

 The girl seemed to notice that he had spotted her and she quickly straightened and hurried away.  Thorin only shock his head resigned.  There was always bound to be those who were curious about dwarves or others not of their own race.   Most took one look at Dwalin and fled, or even a scowl from himself sent them running.   But this one seemed to not mind in the least.   Usually it was when Thorin spotted her did her courage seem to fail and she went on her way.

 

"Let her be Dwalin."

 

"Ya mean let you be."  The dwarf chuckled as he went through his tools and pulled out a hammer he had been searching for.  Thorin only shook his head, not minding too much.  The day was early yet and they still had much to do.  

 

The sun was setting as they started gathering their things for the day.   They were paying a boy to rise early and get the small forge heated for them, and the family for the use of their smithy.  They were fortunate to find such a place and the use was cheap.  Usually they had to pay at least double the amount for time to use the forge as most towns and cities had their own blacksmiths; as did this one.  Even though the men who worked those forges were usually glad to have a Dwarf work it and make them some extra money. 

 

At the place they were using, the Blacksmith had passed away unexpectedly and his widow was more than happy to rent the place out to them for a few extra coins. But still, they trusted no one and would not leave their tools, even if the doors were locked.   Thorin stretched his hands above his head as Dwalin cracked his neck from a long day of work.  Mahal but he was starving and ready for some food and sleep.  It would be another long work day tomorrow.  It seemed that more people were flocking into the city for some kind of celebration.  Word always spread when dwarves were at the forge, offering their services. 

 

It was unfortunate that their place of stay was located a few streets over.  The widow still lived with her children and had no spare rooms behind the forge, but the _Blue Lilly_ was more than happy to give them rooms; seeing as the proprietor had taken a romantic interest in said widow. 

 

Not in the mood to deal with a room full of crowded men, Thorin made his way to the back entrance; one that lead past the kitchens and towards the stairs.  They had a room on the second floor and wearily made their way towards it.  Thorin paused and stared down at the cloth covered basket that was sitting before their closed door.  Dwalin bumped into him, before he could stop.

 

"What is it?"  Dwalin asked as he pushed Thorin aside bending he peaked under the cloth.  Grinning he looked back up at Thorin, uncovering the basket all the way.  What he saw made his stomach rumble and his mouth water. 

 

The basket was filled with all sorts of food, pies, muffins, biscuits, bread so fresh he could still smell the warmth of it, as if it had just come from out of the oven.  And somewhere underneath that was the smell of beef, hot and ready.   It was a small feast, better than what they would have had down below to be sure.

 

"I would say your admire has been busy."  Dwalin drawled.

 

Thorin sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.  "Just pick it up and lets head in already."  He groaned, but his stomach was looking forward to the pro-offered meal. 

 

Dwalin did as he was told and they quickly made their way inside, setting the basket on the table and quickly digesting the contents.  It had to be one of the best meals Thorin had had in a long time.  The bread was indeed still warm, the pies melted in his mouth and the beef stew was thick and rich and held little vegetables, much to his liking.   They were both silent as they ate, nearly wolfing the meal down.  Finally, satisfied, the basket empty, they sat back and Dwalin patted his belly.

 

"Maybe we should hire the lass, she makes quite the meal."  Thorin only glared at his friend and Dwalin chuckled.  "Jus' saying we could use a good cook, _your majesty_."

 

"Knock it off Dwalin." And this time Thorin punched him hard in the arm.  It only made Dwalin laugh harder. 

 

"Don' know what them girls see in ya.  Must be all that scowling and glaring ya do.  Husband material."   Thorin didn't hesitate to knock Dwalin off his chair onto the floor.  Thorin was going to have to put a stop to this once and for all.  He would have to speak to the girl before this got out of control.

 

When the next day came, Thorin kept an eye out for the lass but there was no sign of her.  Even when noon approached and many of the city folk were taking a break from the heat of the summer sun, there had been no sign of her; nor in the evening.  Thorin was slightly annoyed that for once he was actually aware of the men and women around him, keeping his eyes out for her and there had been no sign.  He tried to shake off his irritation and just work, which worked until they reached their room that night and there was yet another basket of food waiting for them.  This time there was a small cask of ale as well.   Dwalin was getting too much entertainment out of this.

 

Taking his pipe, Thorin headed down to the main common room, where many of the locals were gathered, enjoying a bite of food and ale.  With travelers and strangers aplenty there was much music and entertainment going on.  He made his way over towards the barkeep and inquired about their room and the basket of food left before it. 

 

"Hmmm, im' sorry ta say I don' know ewe's left it.  Sorry Master Dwarf, but I can 'ep an eye out for ya."

 

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."  Thorin told him and turned back towards the room.  There was a table open and deciding he wouldn't mind a bit along took it and lit his pipe.  He eyed the room, at the various groups of men.   Many of them ignored him for which he was grateful for.  His pipe just about smoked, Thorin was ready to retire back to his room for the evening when a conversation caught his attention. 

 

"Are you sure this will work?"

 

"Of course it will.  Our little thief can easily sneak in, no one will suspect him."

 

"And what if he refuses?"

 

There was a pause.  "He won't.  I'll make sure of it."

 

A burst of laugher from a nearby table drowned out the rest of their words, but there was not much Thorin could do.  He was a strange dwarf, wandering and taking work were he could.  Men only looked at him as a laborer, nothing more.  Wanting nothing more to do with the ill will of these men, Thorin went back to his room.

 

* * *

 

 

"Master Dwarf."

 

"What can I do for you Miss Elise?"  Thorin asked as he paused in his work.  There had been few requests today.  Yet that did not mean they had little work to do by no means.

 

"Just seeing if everything is in order and if you will be joining in the festivities this evening."

 

"Everything is fine.  I'm sure there is little else we will need this evening."

 

"Oh."  She looked a little put out.  "Well, tonight is the beginning of the feast of fire and there will be a gathering in the main square to celebrate.  You are most welcome to join our family if you decide to participate."

 

"I will consider it."

 

Elise blushed nodded and turned back down the lane, a basket in her hand as she headed towards the market.  He glanced over at Dwalin who raised an eyebrow at him.  Thorin only rolled his eyes at him and went back to work.  Elise was the widow they were renting the forge from, it was only fair to be polite.

 

As the afternoon began to wean into evening, the trickle of people heading towards the center of the city grew.  He and Dwalin decided to leave off early that night.   There was no basket at their door this night and Thorin told himself he was not disappointed.   It had been excellent food was all. 

 

"Looks like you scared her off after all." 

 

"I didn't even have a chance to."  Thorin grumbled.

 

It looked like everyone was heading to the festival.  Only a few men were gathered in the common room so Thorin and Dwalin decided to head out and see what the fuss was all about. 

 

The sunlight faded fast but the streets stayed light by the many torches lit along the streets, along with the many mini bon fires they had going.  Around each fire were groups of people, singing, laughing with pots of food and meats roasting.    Mugs of ale was thrust into their hands and hands slapped their backs in good measure as they were moved through the throng.   Thorin shared a look with Dwalin who only shrugged and downed his ale as another one was placed into his other hand. 

 

Center of town held a huge water fountain, which had torches attached among the statues and figures within its falls.   Dancers and performers entertained the crowds as venders sold masks and ribbons.  Thorin looked around and saw that many of the town folk wore masks, colorful ones that contained ribbons and some with lace and even feathers that had been colored a plethora of colors.  Bells jingled and rang; jugglers were egged on as more and more balls were added to their already dizzying circle. 

 

A large area had been cleared to one side that contained roasting boar and pig, and next to that was one that contained several barrels of ale and beer.  Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, even the guards of the city were seen laughing and drinking along with the rest of them.  As the night grew darker, fireworks lit up the sky in intervals causing the children to gasp in surprise and delight.  Around another corner, music was played and dancing was taking place.  It was indeed a very fine festival, one that Thorin hadn't seen in a long time.  It both made him smile slightly and cause him some pain from days long past.

 

Contests were being held for strength, and endurance.  Thorin sighed, drank his ale and followed his friend over towards where there was arm wrestling competitions.  Bets were placed and it was no surprise when Dwalin beat all the contestants.  No one seemed to hold a grudge however and just plied him with more ale.  Thorin couldn't help but cheer with the rest of them.  Perhaps he had had too much to drink himself.   

 

It was then he realized that Dwalin had wandered off towards another gaming table.  He rolled his eyes and decided his friend could handle himself and went to find the nearest bench.   Things were beginning to spin slightly and some fresh air away from the crowds sounded just like what he needed.   It was then he noticed the familiar dress and hair.  The same scarf tied over her head and under her chin.  It was the young lass that would watch him work.    

 

She seemed to be moving with a purpose when a taller man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the nearby alley.  Thorin frowned and decided to go see if she was alright.   He had just reached the opening when he heard the resounding slap, and saw the girl on the ground a had to her check looking up at the man with no small amount of fear.

 

"Please Jonatan.  I'll do it, I'm sorry."  The girl pleaded.  The man yanked her back up to her feet, one hand encircled her throat and squeezed enough for her to struggle for breath.

 

"You better.  Fail me again and I will get Alishar, is that understood?"

 

She nodded if awkwardly with his hand around her throat and small whimper escaped.  Thorin hadn't even realized he had moved until his fist slammed into the man's stomach, enough to make him bend over in pain and release the girl.  Thorin then punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.  He panted harshly as he glared down at the piece of scum.  To hit a child was unforgivable.  He turned his gaze back over to the girl who had slumped back down to the ground, her brown eyes huge, and mouth slightly open in surprise.

 

"Are you alright?"  Thorin asked her.  The young lass just stared at him flicked her eyes to the unconscious man and then back to him.

 

"You, you hit him."  

 

Thorin gave her a small smile and gently raised his fingers to brush against the bruise that was forming on her check.  "Yes, he deserved it.  Where I come from it is unforgivable to hit a child."

 

That seemed to startle her out of her astonishment and she jumped up to her feet, Thorin rising with her.   She licked her lips and eyes darted around nervously.  "Well I-I thank you, but I really must be going.  Thank you for your help Master Dwarf."  She all but darted away before Thorin gently caught her arm.

 

"Please, let me escort you, I would feel much better if you were accompanied by someone able to protect you."  Thorin was amused by the blush that spread across her face as she studied her boots.  White teeth bit her bottom lip and she glanced back at the unconscious man.

 

"Do you know him?"

 

"Yes." She murmured.

 

"Ah, have I caused you unnecessary repercussions then?"

 

"Nothing that I can't handle." This was said with a small smile as she glanced up at him through her black hair that hung in her eyes.

 

"I still feel responsible for you, if you will please accompany me I will escort you back to your home."  Thorin held out his hand waiting for her to take it.  She looked at his pro-offered hand then to his face where she seemed to study him a moment before sliding her own smaller hand into his.  The touch sent a jolt through his arm and made him gasp and the girl to flinch and pull away but he closed his hand around hers and swallowed to get some moister back into his mouth.  His hart was pounding in his chest, which he dutifully ignored.   They just stared at each other, eyes locked together and for a moment it felt as if nothing else mattered in the world.   Thorin took a ragged breath and mentally shook himself. "Now than, which way?"

 

She took a few steps and lead him out of the alley way and down some of the crowded streets.  "Are you not enjoying the festival with your family?"

 

"I, don't have any family."  It was said so quietly that he could hardly hear her over the noise. 

 

"Then who was that scum back there who seemed to own rights to you?"

 

"Oh, that's just Jonatan.  He's an ass if there ever was one."  Thorin chuckled as she gasped and a hand flew to her mouth.  "I'm sorry."

 

"No need.  He did indeed seemed to be an ass of the worse sort."  He gave her hand a comforting squeeze and was rewarded with another smile.

 

"Well, Jonathan was a close friend of...my family.  He and Alishar are all I have left really."

 

"You have no other?"  She only shook her head.

 

A silence settled over them as they walked through the streets, but it was a comfortable.  They finally stopped before a building that was in desperate need of repair and a quick glance around showed Thorin that they were in a more poorer part of the city.

 

"Thank you for seeing me home."  She told him and was about to turned around and head in when Thorin stopped her.

 

 "Thank you for the food baskets you have left.  It was very good."  Her face turned a bright red.

 

"Y-you are welcome."

 

"If you need any assistance, please don't hesitate to find me.  I would like to make sure you have come under no ill-will because of my actions this evening."  Thorin raise his hand to gently cup her bruised cheek, his thumb brushing over it softly and he felt her shiver.   They both seemed to be slowly leaning in toward each other, so close their breath mingled.  Her lips were right there, inviting and so, so close.

 

A loud bang and laughter down the street had them jumping apart.  The lass stammered something and slipped into the house, leaving Thorin stunned to what had almost happened.  What in the name of Mahal had come over him?   He took a few shaky steps back and ran a hand over his face.   Turning Thorin headed back to the inn.  He would have to put a stop to this nonsense. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cross dressing but this is not a fem Bilbo or wanting to be female. Also some abuse. No beta.

**Chapter Three**

 

Bilbo pressed himself against the closed door, his heart hammering.  What had just happened?  He glanced down at his hand that still tingled from holding the Dwarf's.   He closed his eyes and leaned back against the door trying to get his breathing under control.   A nervous giggle escaped him as he thought of Jonatan laid out flat.  Oh, Bilbo was sure he was going to pay for that but it was worth, a pleasant image he will cherish none the less.  He brought a hand up to his mouth and closed his eyes.  This needed to stop before something unfortunate happened. 

 

He peaked out the nearby window to make sure the Dwarf had moved on; which he had.  Bilbo knew he was in trouble when he could stop watching the Dwarf work.  It fascinated him to no end.  How his hands worked the forge, the hammer,  along with the sounds it made sent a chill down to his very core and resonated with each clang.  Oh Eru those hands, how graceful they seemed to move, shaping a blocks of ore into an exquisite piece of work.  That dark hair always pulled back against his neck, but strands always made their way free and would stick to his sweat.  His beard was short for a dwarf, it wasn't the first time Bilbo had seen and spoken with Dwarves.  Even his companion had a longer beard, even if his head boasted none. 

 

Oh yes, Bilbo knew he was in trouble.  What had he been thinking baking and leaving that food for them?  He was sure he wouldn't see the dwarves, let along speck to them.  It wasn't supposed to happen this way; and there were many reasons why.  First off, only two people in this city knew that Bilbo was actually a male.

 

He stepped in front of a mirror and pulled the wig from off his head.  It was made with dark straight black hair which he kept tied on with a scarf to cover up his rather odd shaped ears.  They were rather elfish looking with their pointed ends.  Bilbo slid his hand into his matted down hair and shook the strands loose.  Golden brown curls clung to his fingers as he pulled them lightly.  It was getting a little long and would need to be trimmed soon.  It was easier to keep it under control and under the wig when it was short.

 

Slipping the wig  back on, Bilbo headed towards the back door, gave a quick peak and quietly slid out into the darkness.  He better at least get this job done and perhaps Jonatan wouldn't beat him when he came back home.   Not that that would stop him anyways,  but at least Bilbo could appease his anger.  He hated this.  All this stealing, hiding and running.  It had been mothers idea to dress him as a young girl, seeing as he would never get any taller.  People didn't look twice at him, not even his large feet got much attention as the dress he wore covered them up nicely too.  Brought less attention to him.

 

A pang went through him at the thought of Mother and his hand strayed up to the necklace he wore.  Death always seem to follow him which was one of the reasons he moved around a lot.   He shook his head to get such mundane thoughts out of his head.  Another time he would visit them, but not right now.  Which was why he had to stop thinking about and watching that Dwarf.  Nothing good would come of it, not when he was found out to be a male.  That though made him incredibly morose.

_"Snap out of it and get the job done."_ He told himself.  Bilbo stuck to the more quiet streets, avoiding the main parts of the city where the festivities were still going on strong, although it had the signs of starting to wind down slightly.  More people could be seen slumped over here and there, too much food and drink in their bellies.  It wasn't the first time he had been in this city, it was very popular with the Zingara.  They had been here several times as the city was open and friendly for this festival and very respective to trade and entertainment.  

 

Those days were long gone now and yet Bilbo found himself once again back in Ossein.  This time it was for reasons he wasn't too happy about.  Instead of selling wares, entertaining or celebrating, he was thieving.  True, he learned to pick pockets as well as any other Zingara, but that didn't mean he had to like it.  What choice did he have?  He had no one now except for Jonatan and Alishar.   Bilbo had been toying with the idea of looking for their cousins and joining their caravan, be he had no means to do so, and he was too small to protect himself out on the road.  Besides, he wasn't sure where to start, they could be located anywhere within Middle Earth.

 

Bilbo approached the Lords home, which was dark and quiet.   He had been helping out in the kitchens, earning some extra money and learning the layout of the manor.   The folk were friendly and very glad for the extra help; especially at such a busy time.  With the festival, the Lord of the city liked to throw big parties which always required lots of food and preparation; which was why it was so easy to hired on.  He also knew that many of the staff were off and would be out for the festival, and Bilbo knew he had a good several hours before anyone would return home.  Still, he wanted this done quickly. 

 

The door provided not much of deterrent and he slipped inside and headed towards the Lord's office.  Bilbo dared not light a candle, but did open the curtains up a bit, allowing for some of the light from outside in.  The room was full of books and maps; walls that were lined with them.  Walking over to the shelves Bilbo gently placed his hands against the spines and reverently ran his palm against them.  He loved books.  Mother would often laugh at his love for the written word and would get him a book here and there where she could.   He was only allowed to keep a few since there was just no way they could carry them all wherever he went.   Even those were long gone now too.  He sighed and pulled away and headed towards the desk which was neater then he expected.

 

Checking the drawers he found one that was locked.  Pulling the small picking tool from his wig, Bilbo quickly opened it and looked at the contents inside.  There was a small chest made of a rich dark wood, the carvings along it was exquisite and seemed to have no opening.  He let his fingers run across the wood finding the hidden spots for his fingers to press.  There was a soft click and Bilbo opened the lid, revealing the contents.   Seals of the City.  An official one for the signature on letters and one to seal the parchment. 

 

He snapped the lid shut, shut the door and slipped back out.  Bilbo's throat was dry, and his hands were shaking.  He hated this, it made him so nervous and his stomach upset.   This time he didn't even stop or slow down for anyone but headed straight back home. 

 

Jonatan was there, the fireplace lighting up the room with an eerie glow.  Bilbo swallowed his nerves as he slowly entered the room.  The man was nursing a bruise on his jaw and those dark eyes honed in on him.

 

"I-I got what you wanted."  Bilbo said, pulling the box out and setting it on the table.  There was no way he was going to go within Jonatan's reaching distance if he could help it.   Jonatan's eyes flicked towards the box and Bilbo backed up a step.  "So, it's late and I'm going to head to bed."  But Bilbo didn't get very far when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind him.   It was all he could do to not yell as he spun around.  "Alishar."  He said quietly.

 

"Bilbo."  Alishar sighed.  "Have we not done enough for you?  Have I not fed and clothed you and protected you?  Do you no longer want our protection?"

 

"Wh-what do mean?"  Bilbo asked. 

 

"It's come to my attention that you think that you no longer think you have to do your share around here.  You know the code Bilbo, you know the rules."

 

"I do Alishar.  And I don't think that at all.  I swear it, by Eru I swear it."  He was afraid.  There was no use denying it.  Alishar scared him, always had.   There had been a time he would have scoffed at Alishar's orders, when mother and the others were still alive.    

 

"Then why do you refuse to obtain the objects we need?  Do you not want to eat?  Do you not need shelter or protection?"

 

"No-no that's not it at all."  Bilbo pointed to the box on the table  "See, it's right there.  I got it, just like you asked."  But Alishar continued as if he hadn't spoken.

 

"Or perhaps you are trying to make friends with those Dwarves.  You think they will help you?  You think Dwarves would care enough about you, a little short freak, and take you with them?  Dwarves care for no race but their own."

 

Bilbo could only shake his head even though he felt his eyes welling up with tears and he tried to blink them away.  A pang went through his heart and his stomach dropped out.  Of course he didn't think that, it was all near impossible.  That wasn't the reason he was so intrigued by the Dwarves but he wasn't going to tell Alishar that. 

 

"No one will accept you Bilbo.  No one will protect you but _us_.  You are nothing but a common criminal to them."  Alishar bent down closer to Bilbo.  "And that's all you're ever going to be good for. "  His voice was low, sinister as if it was such a terrible secret that only Bilbo needed to know.   He stood and turned around.  "Although I'm sure I could find you another occupation."

 

"No, please Alishar.  I'm sorry, I am." 

 

Alishar looked down at him, his lip curled with disgust.  "You will prove it."  He turned towards Jonatan.  "Give him ten lashes.  I expect you to bring in double your amount tomorrow Bilbo."

 

With that Alishar picked up the box he had set on the table and left. Bilbo's wide eyes turned to Jonatan who was now leering at him and a lot closer then Biblo remembered.  No, he was not going to do this again.  He spun and ran to the door but Jonatan grabbed him and pulled him back.  His hands so tight around Bilbo's arms he was sure there would be bruises there as well tomorrow.    The fight left him after that.  He was no match for Jonatan and it would only double his punishment. 

 

Jonatan roughly shoved him into his room and shut the door.  "You know the routine." 

 

Nodding, Bilbo took his boots off, letting his toes wiggle in the air.  How he wished he could just go without boots.  Mother let him all the time, said it was natural for his kind.  But Alishar and Jonathan hated his feet, said someone would recognize to easily if he didn't wear boots.  His dress came next which he hung up on a hook near his bed.  Bilbo kept his short pants on he wore underneath and laid down on the bed, face down.   He grabbed onto the head board before Jonatan could order him too.

 

"You're so full of yourself aren't you Halfling.  You know why people call you that?  Because that's all you are, just half a person." 

_Wack_

 

Bilbo flinched as the strap fell across his back.

 

"You'll never amount to anything."

_Wack_

 

His hands clenched around the wood so tight, Bilbo knew his hands would be sore tomorrow.

 

"Everyone around you suffers and dies.  You should be grateful that Alishar is willing to take you in."

_Wack Wack._

 

Bilbo chocked out a sob, he couldn't hold it back anymore.  He squeezed his eyes closed, but it still didn't stop the tears from leaking out.  Jonatan loved to inflict pain.  Not only the physical, but he liked to hurt Bilbo anyway he could.  And it worked. 

_Wack_

 

Blue eyes smiled at him and ran a gentle hand across his bruised check.

_Wack_

 

Think arms worked at the forge, muscle rippling beneath the tight shirt.

_Wack_

 

Long dark hair with braids that Bilbo would love to run his hands over.

_Wack_

 

He was a lie, and no one would love him.

_Wack, wack._

 

* * *

 

 

Bilbo gently sat up.  He hadn't slept all night and needed an early start if Alishar expected him to bring in double.   He felt nauseous and would not be eating anything this morning for fear it would come back up.  His back was on fire.  Standing he went to his dress and pulled it own, hissing as the material scraped across his back.  There would be no open wounds, that was one thing Alishar would  not allow.  Jonatan would strap him but was not allowed to break the skin.  Didn't make it hurt any less. Once he got his boots on, Bilbo adjusted his wig and made sure everything was in place before heading out. 

 

There were still a few party revealers lining the streets, slumped over each other or propped up against various walls asleep.   There would still be a few activities going on today as the festival would continue until the following morning. 

 

Smells from the nearby bakery usually made his stomach rumble and head off in that direction.  This morning it made him want to throw up and he went into the opposite direction.  He passed the forge and was slightly disappointed that the Dwarves weren't at work yet.  They must have partied late along with everyone else. 

 

His own reflection in a window caught his attention and he paused.  His face was blotchy and red, dark circles were under his eyes.  By the Valar he looked a mess.  A glint of black stone from his neck had him automatically reaching for it.  The stone gave him courage and strength.  Something mother had bestowed upon him, telling him never to take it off.  It was engraved with runes and markings for deception and protection; and he has never taken it off.  Much good as it has done him through the years.   Heaving a large sigh, Bilbo turned away from his reflection and went to work.

 

Besides the Lord's Manor, he had also found work in one of the popular pubs.   Bilbo's culinary skills always brought in a few extra coins and the owner was always grateful for his help.  These were skills he kept hidden from Alishar and Jonatan.  Not that they would care anyways.  They didn't care how he earned his coin, only that he brought his share in.   They most likely he thieved it all, and sometimes he did, but he always avoided that if he could.

By the time the sun was setting, Bilbo had had enough.  He was too tired and was getting clumsy and sloppy.  He had at least made enough sweet pies to keep the pub's patrons content for the evening. 

 

"'Ere ya go miss.  Yer more than welcome to come tomorrow if you can."   The owner handed Bilbo his payment before he left.

 

"Thank you Master Sonnen.  Mother will be most appreciative."

 

"I hope she feels better soon."

 

Bilbo bent his head.  "Thank you."  And he escaped into the night.  A small lie, but a lie none the less.  It was better than stealing.  The streets were once again crowded and for once Bilbo let himself enjoy the sights.  There were a few that remembered him from the days his family would roam through here.  He worked in the kitchens and bakeries, anywhere that would hire him.   He secretly had enough coin stored up that he could get by on days like these when Alishar demanded more from him.

 

A stout figure in front of him got his attention and his heart beat picked up.  A dwarf.  Bilbo trailed after him, a smile on his face and wondered if it was his dwarf.  Even if he could just admire him from afar, it would make Bilbo's night.  Bilbo followed him down a few streets that seemed to be going away from the festivities.  Frowning, Bilbo looked a little closer and decided that this dwarf was not his, well not his _per say_.  _Stop it Bilbo_ he chided himself.  But the way he walked was less confident and where was his friend.  Those two were always together.  His brows drew down in a frown and continued to follow him.

 

They ended up at the Yellow Claw.  An Inn that was on the opposite side of the city from where the others were staying, of that Bilbo was certain.  Bilbo dallied at the entrance.  With him dressed like a young female there was no reason for him to enter the establishment without a raising a few questions.  It wasn't a very reputable place.  Doubling around the back and looked through the back door.  The place was near empty as everyone was most likely out.  Slipping inside, Bilbo could see no sign of the dwarf.   He shook his head in disgust.  Why was he doing this?  Really, he should just go back to his room and get some sleep.

 

Raised voices from upstairs caught his attention and he crept quietly up the stairs. 

 

"Calm down Runar.  No one is accusing you of anything."

 

"It's outrageous is wha' it is."

 

"This is our opportunity.  You know it, I know it and father knows it.  What better way to rid ourselves of the Durin's and retake our birthright?  Thorin Oakensheild must die, along with the rest of his kin."

 

There was a bit of grumbling.  "Aye, but it does no' mean I have to like it for the likes of _men_ to do it fer us."

 

"Believe me Master Dwarf.  I could care less either way.  As long as I get paid, the job will get done."  The familiar voice sent shivers of ice down Bilbo's spine, freezing him on the landing. 

 

"Better for a  man to do the deed then to connect it back to us."

 

"An who's to say e' wont turn on us?"

 

" You don't need to trust me, just pay me.  I will be long gone in a day's time and there will be nothing to tie his death to either you or I."

 

Bilbo covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide as he listened.  Could they be talking about the other Dwarves?  Who was this Thorin Oakenshield?  But murder?  What was Alishar getting them into?  He slowly began to back out.  It felt like he was holding his breath until he reached the street.  Once there he took in huge amounts of air as he tried to clear his head. 

 

Alishar was helping to murder someone, a dwarf and Bilbo had a sinking feeling he knew who it was.  He would not, could not let him do this.  First thing he needed to do was warn the Dwarves.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truths are revealed as they leave the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no beta :)

 It was a quiet evening for Thorin.  He had decided to forgo the festivities this night.  Instead he pulled out an old book that he liked to read.  It was on that he had acquired after they had arrived at the Blue Mountains.  Dwlin sat across the room sharpening his tools and weapons, not minding the quiet evening.  He had enjoyed himself last night, almost drinking too much, if his grumpiness was anything to go by this morning.  Thorin did not mention anything about the young lass or what had happened.  Nor did he plan to. 

There was nothing to mention, nothing had happened.

He helped the young girl, thanked her for her food and escorted her home.  And he sure wasn't going to mention how his hands tingled when they touched and how he just wanted to keep touching; how he wanted to beat that man to death for hitting her, or how he wanted to pull  her close and taste her lips.    Thorin groaned and rubbed his head.  Dwalin looked over at him his brows raised and Thorin just waved him off.    Three more days and they would move on.  He had told Dís that they would be home by the end of Autumn, to celebrate Durin's day with the boy's.   Not as fancy a celebration as was being held here, but one that stemmed from traditions and it was important for his nephews to know these things, seeing as they're next in line for the throne.

A rapid continuous knock on the door had him and Dwalin on their feet; an axe already in Dwalin's hand and Thorin had reached for the small knife he kept in his boot.  He nodded at Dwalin who went over and unlocking the door opening it up a crack.   Then his eyes went to Thorin's.

"It's for you."

With a frown, Thorin headed over towards the door and was surprised to see the young lass there.  She clutched at her hands, fingers twisting in each other and she kept glancing down the hallway.  

"Can I help you?"  He asked, even though his tone was anything but helpful.  He needed to discourage this at once, and if he had to be rude to do so, then so be it. 

"I'm hoping I can help you."  She said, her honey colored eyes looked at him and he could see the fear in them. 

"Well?"

She licked her lips nervously, gave one quick look around and then leaned in close to him.  "Is your name Thorin Oakensheild?"

The door was yanked open and Dwalin had a dagger at the young girls throat.  Her eyes focused on the tip and took a step backwards until her back hit the opposite wall.  Eye's wide and trained on the knife, her hands pressed against the wall, but she didn't budge.

"Where di' ya hear that name?"  Dwalin growled at her.  Thorin placed a hand on Dwalin shoulder.

"Here would not be the best place." He whispered and stepped back, hoping Dwalin would do the same.  He did and Thorin waited for the girl to enter.  She hesitated but lifted her chin and walked in.  Dwalin shut the door and pressed his back against it.  The dagger in his hands a potent reminder that he wasn't afraid to use it.

"Now, tell me where you heard that name?"  He demanded.

She looked around the room briefly before her eyes fixed on him and then on Dwalin.  "I heard another Dwarf say they were going to kill Thorin Oakensheild and all his kin."

Dwalin scoffed.  "There are no other Dwarves here."

"Yes there is." She said and took a step closer to him.  "At first I thought it was you."  She glanced at Thorin and her checks flushed pink.  "But when I discovered it wasn't, I was curious and followed them.  I may have over heard their conversation."  She looked back at him her fingers twisting together again.  "It's a good thing too.  So you must leave.  Tonight, I don't think they will wait long, as they are planning to be long gone in a day's time."

"An' how do you know all this?  How do we know you aren't trying to trick us righ'now?"

"I'm not.  Please, you must believe me."  She said to Dwalin.  Her eyes wide as she took a step closer to him.  

"And why do you think these so called assassins will be able to do us in so easily?"  Thorin asked her.

She was silent, staring at her feet a moment.  "Because I recognized the voice they spoke to.  And he is a ruthless, cunning man."

"Man? Is it the one that marked you?"

The girl raised her hand to her check and shook her head.  "No, that was Jonatan.  Alishar is in charge.  He is the one they were speaking to."

"What's this then?" Dwalin asked.

"I caught this Jonatan assaulting her and he may have got a close look at my fist."

"Oh sweet Mahal, you can never stay out of trouble can you?" His friend groaned.

Thorin only shrugged and turned back to the girl.  "Thank you for the information.  What do you plan on doing?"

"I'm leaving.   I am going to retrieve my things and go."

Thorin frowned at her.  "You said you had no family."

"I don't."  Those eyes stared up at him with determination.  "But I would rather take my chances out there, then be associated with _them_." 

"You wont get far on yer own past the walls." Dwalin told her.

She looked at him and gave a small sad smile.  "I have lived the life of a Zingara.  I know what the outside is like.  We learn to face and accept death."  She turns to leave.  "I suggest you move quickly."

Thorin reached out and stopped her.  "No, you will accompany us to the next town.  I will see you safe that far at least."

"What?" She spun towards him.  "No, you don't need to do that.  Really, you don't."

"Yes, we do."  With that Thorin quickly gathered up his belongings.  He always kept them close at hands at all times anyways.   Dwalin did the same as Thorin wrote a quick letter to Elise and enough gold pieces that would have lasted through their lease of the forge.  Items secured and packed, they exited the room.  Dwalin in the lead, the young lass between them and Thorin in the rear.

"May I inquire as to your name?"  Thorin asked her as they made their way out to the streets.

"Oh, it's Blibo."

Dwalin glanced back at him.  "Strange name for a lass."  Bilbo seemed to shrink in on herself but didn't say anything about it.  "Which way?" Dwalin asked.

"This way."  She said and was walking quickly down the road, taking them to the quieter streets and past the merry makers.  Before Thorin enjoyed the camaraderie, the merriment.  Now all he could see was opportunities to kill and be killed.  Easy to hide a kill while there was so much noise going on.  Some of the streets Thorin recognized from the night before and she stopped them just before they reached her house.  They stayed in the shadows.

"Wait here, this should only take me a moment."  She told them, and before Thorin could say otherwise she was gone. 

Thorin paced a few steps and glanced around them.  It was late and it seemed most of the festival goers were in the heart of the city.  A merry tune could be heard carried along with the breeze, as well as a  burst of laughter here and there.  He glanced back over at the house and still there was nothing.  Thorin paced back to where he was.   Dwalin kept his gaze sharp within their immediate surroundings. 

_Bang!_

The sound drew both of their attention back towards the house and there was a bright light, one from a fire starting to glow from within.  Thorin took a step towards it, but Dwalin held him back.  The front door flew open and Bilbo ran out, a bag slung over her shoulders.

"Hurry, this way."  She shouted without stopping and seeing if they followed.  Thorin and Dwalin dashed after her.  It was no feat keeping up with her, but trying to get her to go faster.  Bilbo seemed to be losing steam but kept going.  "I know a way out if we head over towards the Eastern gates."

"What did you do?" 

"Gave them something else to worry about besides us."  She said.  They paused a few times as some of the city guards rushed towards the house that was being consumed by fire.    Bilbo led them sure and soon they were near the Eastern Gate.  They slowed down to a walk and instead of heading towards the guards keep and the main road like Thorin expected, Bilbo continued past it and down the lane a ways where a large oak tree had grown.  It had ribbons and a swing attached to it.  It looked to be a favorite playground to the younger children. 

"Why are we not leaving by the main gate?"  Thorin asked as they followed Bilbo.

"Better this way, then Alishar won't know which way you went.  Give us more of a head start."

Dwalin grunted.  "You make it sound like we can't handle this Alishar.  I can easily introduce him to my axes."

The lass paused, then turned to him.  "It's not that I do not believe you could not handle him face to face Master Dwarf.  But I know Alishar.  He will avoid a confrontation if he can; an unexpected thrust in the back, or poison in your food or drink. "  She shook her head.  "No, it's beast to avoid him if we can."

"An' you travel with this man?"  Dwalin asked her.  She dropped her head and bit her lip.

"Not anymore."  She said quietly.  Thorin and Dwalin looked at each other for a moment.

Bilbo continued on and lead them over towards the wall, where a thick brush grew along the bricks.  She closed her eyes a moment and smelled the poignant fragrance the flowers growing gave off.  With a sigh she paused and smiled back at them.  "Roses, watch the thorns.  It's one of the reasons this hasn't been found yet.  Perhaps some youngsters know, but they also know the dangers without as well."  Pulling out a cloak, Bilbo wrapped it around an arm and gently pried the branches back.  Just beyond the dark canopy, Thorin could make out a darker passage.  He glanced back at Bilbo.   "Trust me." 

He looked at Dwalin who went before him, barely fitting through the brambles.  Thorin could hear him cursing in Khuzdul as he was scratched...many times.  Thorin sighed and followed him and Bilbo came last.  The darkness closed in around them yet the smell of dirt and flowers was still strong.

"Watch your head up ahead..."

Dwalin yelped in pain and more curse words followed.

"Sorry."  She muttered.  Thorin chuckled until his own head slammed into the wall, make white lights flash across his vision.  His own words joined Dwalin's.  "I told you to watch your head."  She hissed. 

"Aye, that you did."  He muttered.  Thorin had to practically move onto his belly, there was barely enough room for him and his pack of squeeze through as the tunnel got smaller.  Suddenly a hand reached forward and helped pull him out the rest of the way.  Bilbo scrambled out after them. 

They were outside the walls, next to an outcrop of rocks and trees.  "How did you know about this?"  Thorin asked.

Bilbo only smiled at him.  "That's my secret." 

"Come on then, let's get movin'" Dwalin said and they moved off into the night.

* * *

 

 

For the first time in a long while, Bilbo felt free.  The stars were once again bright above him, the trees whispered in the wind and it never sounded so good.  He could have traveled all night, if he had had any sleep from the night before.  And his Dwarf companions seemed concerned to find shelter as well.  So Bilbo was content to let them lead the way while he enjoyed his freedom. 

They kept up a steady pace, moving quickly and staying off the main road.  It must have been in the late night hours, the ones that were always the darkest, when they came to a stop.

"No fire tonight.  I'll take the first watch.   I think we could all use a little sleep."  Thorin told them.  Bilbo couldn't have agreed more.  All  he had to do was pull out his blanket roll up in it and he was out.

It felt like he had just fallen asleep when he was being gently awaked.  "Bilbo, wake up.  Time to get moving." 

The sun was just barely above the horizon as Bilbo blinked his eyes to adjust to the brightness.    He sat up and pulled quickly away from the voice a spike of fear shot through him as he looked at the unfamiliar face.   The Dwarf pulled his hands back in a sign of peace as he looked at him wearily.  "It's okay, we aren't going to hurt you."

Heaving a sigh, Bilbo gave a humorless chuckle.  "Sorry,  It's just that..."  He shook his head slightly.

Thorin gave him a unreadable look.  "I think introductions are in order.  I am Thorin son of Thrain."

"And I am Dwalin son of Fundin."

"Bilbo at your service." He gave a small bowel.

"Just Bilbo?"  Thorin asked.

Bilbo nodded and his stomach rolled with guilt and he knew he had to tell them.  Even if they left him on his own, he will have felt better telling the truth and getting them free.

"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you."  He began and immediately watched as Thorin and Dwalin both tensed up and the kindness left their eyes.   Well, what did he expect?  Bilbo reached up and pulled the black a hair wig from off his head, revealing his shorter golden brown curls and pointed ears.  "I'm not a girl.  Or even a young one at that."  There was nothing but silence and Bilbo peeked up and saw the shocked looks on their faces.  "I understand if you don't want me to accompanying you to the next town."

"What....why are you dressed as a lass?"  Dwalin asked him.

Bilbo fidgeted.  How would they understand?  "There are times when it's been necessary." 

Thorin's jaw was clenched and he spun spat some words in Khuzdul as  he gather up his belongings.  Dwalin looked after Thorin a confused look on his face before he turned back to Bilbo.  "Well, you sure do make a pretty lass.  Come on, can't leave ya out here all alone."

To say their travel along the road was tense would be an understatement.  Bilbo carried his pack over his shoulder and kept a good distance from Thorin who seemed quite angry with him and Bilbo just couldn't blame him.  A part of him always believed Jonatan that he was useless.   His back was aching something fierce today.  Usually he had some salve he could spread on it to sooth the ache and bruising.  This time, with all that happened, he had nothing. 

When they stopped for the night, Bilbo dug within his bag and pulled out some biscuits he had made and stored away.  They were getting a little crumbly but still very tasty.  He shared them with his companions and while Dwalin was quick to snatch them up, Thorin all but ignored his.  Bilbo set them down by him anyways and went back to the opposite side of the fire.

"So, Bilbo, why the dress?"  Dwalin asked.

How did one answer such a loaded question without giving himself away.  "Alishar made me do it in the city.  Said it was easier for me to blend in with the regular folk, look like a girl because of my size."  He looked at Dwalin.  "This is as tall as I'm going to get.  And if anything Alishar hates to have unwanted attention brought in his direction.  So I became a girl."  Bilbo shrugged it off and munched on his biscuit. 

"Your hair and ears would be a big giveaway."  Dwalin added.

"And my feet." Bilbo muttered.

"Your feet?"

Bilbo just nodded his head and turned his attention elsewhere.  "I've always been different.  Mother says I'm from Hobbit blood, but I've never met any others like me before.  But it was too dangerous to go looking for my people, so she raised me and protected me."  Bilbo had absently reached for the necklace he always wore.

"The traveling folk, Zingara." Thorin spoke at last, his face in shadow.

"Yes." Bilbo said quietly.

"How did ya end up with them?" Dwalin asked.

Bilbo looked into the fire and hug his knees to his chest.  "I was found when I was very young, alone and shivering in an abandoned boat along the Brandywine river."

"An' they didn't return you to your people?  I dinna know the Zingara were into taking children."

"They're not!."  Bilbo took a deep breath.  "There are...reasons."

"I can't think of any good reason why someone wouldn't return a child to their people." Thorin growled, anger and displeasure clearly evident in his voice.

A sharp pang shot through Bilbo's heart at the thought of his Zingara family.  The dwarves would not or could not understand.   Without saying anything else, Bilbo went to his bedroll and laid down, his back to the fire. 

"We should reach the town of Softwood by tomorrow.  We can part ways there."  Thorin's said.   With his heart heavy, Bilbo took a few deep breaths and tried to sleep.  The two dwarves spoke low and in their language and Bilbo just blocked out them out.  It felt like a long time before he was able to drift off to sleep.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any glaring mistakes please let me know :)

Dwalin wasn't sure if he was annoyed, amused or exasperated.    Bilbo had surprised him by having breakfast ready.   It was something he must have learned with the Zingara; an ash cake that was filled with meats and cheese.   Dwalin whished there had been more and greedily ate Thorin's portion who seemed stubborn and refused to eat them.   The lad seemed a little put out by it, but he continued on, paying Thorin no mind in return.

 And now here they were midday and the atmosphere was so tense Dwalin wished for anything to snap it. Trolls, orc's, _something_ to save himself from the stubbornness of Dwarves; the irony was not lost on him. He knew he could be more stubborn then most when warranted.   He picked up his pace and matched it to Thorin's giving a glance back at the lad. Dwalin wasn't sure what to call him. He was definitely a hobbit, he had seen quite a few in his travels to the Ered Luin and the Blue Mountains, and yet his mannerism was one of the Zingara. Bilbo was keeping his distance.

" _Yer' being stubborn."_ He said in khuzdul.

Thorin just glared at him. _"I'm being stubborn?"_

Dwalin grunted in agreement. _"He didna mean anything by it.   Not like he was usin ya."_

_"He lied."_

_"You could say 'e was more of in disguise."_

_"Why are you defending him anyways? He's not a dwarf, and really we do not owe him anything beyond this."_

Dwalin grunted. _"He warned us, got us out of tha' city."_

_"We still don't know if he is telling the truth."_

They were quiet for a bit, the sound of their boots hitting the ground almost drowning out any of the wild life sounds.

_"He likes you, and you can use a bit of companionship."_

_"What?!"_ Thorin, furious blue eyes turned on him and a finger pocked him in the chest. _"Watch your mouth.   I would never lower myself to allow that to happen."_ Turning, Thorin's pace seemed to pick up a bit faster, anger spurring him on.

Dwalin let the silence stew a moment. _"You should think about it, is all."_

_"For the love of Durin, Dwalin, what has gotten in you?"_

_"You've been under a lot of stress and a Dwarf needs to have other outlets of release…"_

_"I'm fine."_ Thorin interrupted, his face going red from anger or something Dwalin was right about.

_"If you say so."_

_"I know so."_   

It took all of Dwalin's will power not to punch his would-be-King. Anyone could see he was not fine. Thorin had been strung so tight the last several years he was surprised he hadn't snapped yet. Already he could see the laughter dying quietly; he smiled less and less and rarely would laugh. He was glad they would be heading back to the Blue Mountains. Perhaps Dís and the boys could bring him back around. Mahal knows that working in the world of men wasn't doing him any good. But a little bed companion couldn't hurt to ease the stress either.

The walls of Softwood came into view. It wasn't very large city, more like a large town. The Master of the place was a relation to that of Ossein, so trade was freely given back and forth between the two.   As the peered down at the city from a small hill side, they could see the travelers going in and out of the city. They had avoided the main roads so as not to alert their attackers that they had left already. They should know by now and most likely would be heading this way.

"This is where we part ways then." Bilbo told them, his eyes solemn as he stared down at the town.

"What?" He and Thorin said at the same time.

"Are you not going down to the town?" Dwalin asked him. He felt a little unease to just let the Hobbit go on his own.

Bilbo shook his head and heaved a sigh. "No. Alishar will be expecting me to head here first since it is the closest place to get supplies. I will not let him take me so soon." There was hardness within his voice, and a bit of desperation. Desperation was never a good thing.

"Where will you go?" Thorin asked him.

"I don't know." Bilbo said with a shrug. "Mother has kin, the Nawa tribe. Perhaps I will go find them."

"Do ya even know where they are?"

"No."

"And just how are you going to survive out here, alone, by yourself?"   Thorin all but growled at him.

Bilbo scowled back at him. "Not that it's any of your concern, Master Dwarf, but I have lived most of my life traveling the wilds. I can survive."

"You survived because you had family to help, not one little _Hobbit_ out on his own. You wouldn't last the week."

"And I still say it's none of your business.   Good day."

Before Bilbo could turn around and leave Thorin grabbed a hold of him. "You are _not_ going anywhere."

"Let go of me."

"Not until you listen."

A small fist came up and smacked into Thorin's jaw. It was enough of a surprise that his grip loosed and Bilbo slipped out. Dwalin just watched the whole exchange with a sense of fascination. Never had he seen someone stand up to Thorin, in such an amusing way. Thorin dived after the wayward Hobbit and they both fell to the ground, Khuzdul being spat out along with Zingarian; which Dwalin could only assume was nothing flattering.  

Feet kicked out and another fist flew before Thorin had Bilbo pinned beneath him. They were both breathing heavily, glaring at each other. Thorin had a split lip and the Halfling looked to be sporting a new shiner. By the Valar, the tension between the two was so palpable he could practically taste it. A sudden image of both of them naked and writhing for different reasons had Dwalin chocking on his own spit and hen could only shake his head.   By rocks and stone, if Thorin knew what he thought he would probably run him through. He needed to find a different reason to keep the Hobbit around.

"Get off me you overgrown rock!" Bilbo shouted. That was a new one, Dwalin thought with a chuckle.

"Not until you listen to reason."

"Why do you care where I go?"

"By Mahal you are stubborn. Are you so eager to meet death then?"

"I can take care of myself."

"And I say you are not going anywhere until I say so."

Things were getting worse, Dwalin cleared his throat and two sets of eyes glared in his direction.   "Can ya keep it down while ya grope each other? Yer going to bring us unwanted attention."

That got their attention; Thorin blinked at him, looked down at Bilbo his eyes widening and practically threw himself off the Hobbit, and Bilbo went a bright red , as he scrambled up to his feet.   There was now a good five feet between them; and they refused to look at each other.

"Here is what I'm proposin. You two," Dwalin pointed between the two of them. "Will stay here and _behave_. No running off." He pointed at Bilbo. "And no groping." He pointed at Thorin who gave him such a murderous rage, Dwalin was surprised he didn't kill over right then and there.

"Just a minute-" Bilbo began to argue.

"Watch your words Dwalin." Thorin growled.

"I will head into the town, get some supplies and we can then all move onto the next safest place. Agreed?"

Arms crossed over his chest, Thorin nodded.   He looked at the Hobbit. "Well?" Dwalin could see that he was thinking it over but finally agreed. Dwalin watched some of the tension seep out of Thorin's shoulders. "Good." With that Dwalin turned and headed towards the town alone and prayed to Mahal that those two would not kill each other before he got back.

**

Bilbo stormed off down the hill towards a small outcropping of trees. The nerve, the _nerve_ of that Dwarf! Thinking he can just say or do whatever he likes, when he obviously didn't want to be around him in the first place. Bilbo didn't want to admit that he had been a bit hurt over that. He tried to shake it off. Why should he care anyways? They would just leave him eventually, it's not like Bilbo mattered to anyone. Wasn't that a depressing thought? Mother would have made him do extra chores for sure, ones he didn't like. She always told him he was destined for something bigger than this, something she read in the stars. But Bilbo couldn't read the stars and felt just about useless right now. When they had been attacked how much help had he been then? Thorin was right; it was difficult for him to survive all on his own. That’s how he had ended up with Alishar.

Dropping his bag down next a small stream, he stripped off the wig and the dress. At least he could be himself again.   Kneeling down, Bilbo ran the cool water through his hair washing out the sweat. It felt good, and cooled his temper somewhat; not that he could stay angry at anyone for long. The water ran down his bare back the coolness felt good. A twig snapped and he glanced up to see Thorin as he made his way towards him. Well, he could always make an exception.

 Deciding the best course of action would be just to ignore him; Bilbo began to roll up the dress, with the wig tucked safely inside and exchange it for a pair of real pants (not the short ones he was wearing) and a shirt. Bilbo near yelped and jumped when a hand touched his back.

"What's this?" Thorin demanded, his scowl still in place, anger lacing through his voice.

"What's what?" Bilbo asks trying to look at his back over his shoulder, even though that was near impossible; while at the same time dislodging the Dwarfs hand. It left a hot warmth behind that made him entirely uncomfortable.

"Oh that." Bilbo shook his head. "It's nothing." His back shouldn't look too badly, some dark red bruising maybe, a few welts, nothing serious. A few days and it would most likely be gone. Bilbo quickly slipped his shirt on, it was an off-white color that buttoned up which he would tuck into his pants. A dark red vest went over the shirt that hung loose in front. Along the edges it was embroidered with gold thread; it was something he had done himself and he had chosen various flowers and vines as its motif.

He sat down and took his boots off, letting his feet free felt so good and he couldn't stop the please sigh from escaping. He washed his hairy legs and feet off as well and let them dry.   Noticing the Dwarf was still staring at him, as if glaring would make him go away somehow.   Thorin finally noticed that he was watching him and turned and sat in the shade under a tree.

Feeling like he could now change his pants without an audience, Bilbo quickly did so; and decided that his feet could use a break from the boots for a while.   He shoved them into his pack and without anything better to do, he went and sat near the Dwarf. He wasn't about to admit that he was _wrong_ per say but Bilbo wasn't a fool. He knew what his chances were out here alone and it wasn't good.

Picking up a stick, he began to make shapes in the ground. It was a game he played with the other children to pass time; useless by oneself though.   Bilbo would make a scratch, than another and another till he could make no more moves, cross it out and start all over again.

As he started a fresh one and made a move, another stick joined his and made the opponents move. Bilbo looked up to see Thorin sitting closer; and when did that happen?   Bilbo couldn't stop his smile and quickly ducked his head. He made the next move. It was a simple game and usually ended in a draw, unless the players were sharp and watched for their opponent to make a mistake, which Bilbo was. So was his rival it seemed.

Thorin would win some, then Bilbo here and there; mostly they ended in a draw.

"Does that happen often?" Thorin asked his voice softer as if afraid he would scare Bilbo off.   Bilbo stiffened a bit but then relaxed.

"Not often." He said slowly. "Only when I've pissed Alishar off enough to warrant it."

"He doesn't sound like a very good leader."

Bilbo swirled his stick in the dirt, their game clearly over as an unspoken truce seemed to float between them.

"He's not."

"Then why do you stay with him? Surely you have family elsewhere-"

"No, I don't. And if I did I wouldn't know about them. When…" Bilbo took a deep breath. "When our caravan was attacked only a few of us were able to get away." He looked up into those cool blue eyes. "Alishar, Jonatan, Maralene, Barlan and myself. Five of us. Only five out of fifty of us survived. Maralene disappeared one night, and Barlan died of an infection to a wound he had received. I have no one else to turn to. Who would take me in, a Zingara with Hobbit blood?" Bilbo shook his head and turned away.

"What about Hobbit relatives?"

"You think I haven't thought of that? Where would I go first and ask what? Did anyone loose a Hobbit twenty some odd years ago? And by the way he was raised as Zingara and has become a pretty good thief. You think they would still welcome me in with open arms?" Bilbo said this last part with a little more heat than necessary. He had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. "I'm sorry. I just get so frustrated sometimes. I'm so …" He ducked his head and turned back to the dirt with his stick.

"You're so…?" Thorin prompted.

Bilbo couldn't look at him and looked to the forest to his side. He knew how pathetic his voice sounded, how desperate, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it. "So alone."

A warm hand covered his and Bilbo turned back with surprise to see Thorin staring intently at him. "You are not alone."   Something flopped in Bilbo's stomach and his breath caught. There was something so familiar in that gaze, some part of the Dwarf that said he understood.

His heart pounding Bilbo pulled away and stood up. He needed to clear his head; the Dwarf was making him saying things he would rather not.   Bilbo only took two steps when his necklace heated up. He hissed as a hand immediately encircled it. His eyes immediately scanned their surroundings.

"We need to move." He hissed at Thorin.

"What?"

"We need to move now!"

Maybe it was the tone in his voice, the plea boarding on terrified, but for once Thorin seemed to do as he asked, grabbing their packs he tossed Bilbo his and pulled out his sword.

"What is it?" Thorin asked as he too scanned their surroundings.

A loud howl was heard through the woods, followed by others.

"Warg's." Bilbo whispered.


End file.
